Chapter Two

"I'm coming for a visit."

Her sister squealed. Aspen hoped it was delight because she'd run out of ideas, and getting out of town was the only thing left to try. "How long?"

"The summer. I'm going through some…stuff. I need a place to think."

Sierra was three years older, divorced, bossy, and fabulous. She'd followed her husband to North Carolina, where he shocked her by falling in love with his boss.

Her sister had handled the whole thing with her usual class, quickly divorcing him, heading back to school to kick-start her career, and sending him and his new husband Christmas cards each year. She worked at a local retail store and got fired for trying to tell the owner how to run it successfully. When the store closed, Sierra took out a loan, bought it herself, and now ran a thriving clothing boutique. She was a true badass and owned a legendary shoe collection that reminded Aspen of the character from Jennifer Weiner's book, In Her Shoes.

Except Aspen was a size ten and couldn't fit into her sister's clothes or shoes. Not that she'd ever try. When she was ten years old, Sierra had beaten Aspen up for stealing her new jean jacket. Aspen had lied to her parents about getting jumped on the playground, suffered through a meeting with the principal where she lied to protect her sister, and gained Sierra's respect forever.

Hey, blood was blood.

"I'm so happy. I desperately need some company. When will you be here?"

"Two days. I'm packing now."

"Is it man or book trouble?"

"Book."

"Good. We can solve that easier. I'll have the wine open. Text me with updates."

Sierra clicked off. Aspen smiled. Her sister was direct and despised small talk. Maybe it was being around demanding customers who made a big deal out of a mismarked price or threw a fit when their size didn't fit, which made Sierra avoid any encounters that wasted her time outside of work.

After a sleepless night, Aspen decided to take her agent's advice and leave town. There was nothing she hated more than a self-pity party, and after yesterday, she was done. She needed to figure out a plan to make sure her next book hit all the marks. It had to be fresh, new, and burn with emotion. It had to dazzle.

But first, she needed to refill the well and let herself people watch. Hear new stories, see new things. She was positive North Carolina would help. Plus, she missed Sierra. It had been a few months since they'd managed to squeeze in a visit.

Leaving New York in the dust felt damn good.

About thirteen hours later, Aspen pulled onto the single-lane road always stuffed with summer traffic. Passing through the charming town of Duck, she stared greedily at Duck Donuts—her favorite place on Earth—but kept her focus on the goal. There'd be plenty of time for eating, cocktails, and shopping. She and Sierra excelled at those things.

The traffic eventually disappeared, and the roads opened through to Corolla. The small town was less crowded than some of the other hot spots on the Outer Banks, a bit less touristy except for the jewel in the crown for tourism.

The wild horses.

She finally pulled up to the house, sighing with relief. Stretching and groaning, she got out and looked up at the beach house that sang of everything the island was about. Sun, sand, and surf. Relaxation and carefree fun. The salty air teased her nostrils, and her skin prickled in the heat. Already, her body sighed with anticipation.

The two-story, lemon-yellow home boasted a wraparound porch, lush landscaping, and white shutters. The roof sloped at an angle, and a tiny deck popped out from the primary bedroom. A hammock was strung between two weeping willow trees.

Aspen walked up the stairs, knocked on the screen door in warning, and let herself in. "I'm here!" she yelled, taking a quick sip from her water bottle. She was severely dehydrated, not allowing herself to drink anything to cut down on stops.

Her sister popped out of the kitchen with a big grin. "The bitch is back," she teased, giving Aspen a quick, warm hug. "Dayum, someone needs a shower."

Aspen stuck out her tongue. "I need a bathroom and a drink."

"Go, you know where it is. I'll get the sweet tea."

She bolted for the bathroom, decorated in a coastal theme of sand and blue colors, seashell towels, and a beach-scented candle. For her sister's no-nonsense personality, she enjoyed fashion and home décor, taking pride in all her spaces to make them feel authentic yet beautiful. Aspen had hired a decorator and called it a day. As for fashion? She loved it, but her daily clothes consisted of sweats, T-shirts, and bare feet. Other than signing tours, she rarely left her haven.

When Aspen left the restroom, Sierra was perched on a kitchen chair, swinging her sandal-clad foot. She pushed a pink glass across the table, and Aspen drank greedily. The cool, sweet liquid coated her dry throat, and she groaned with pleasure. "I missed your tea."

"You can make it at home."

"I don't cook."

Sierra grunted. "It's a drink. There's no cooking."

"Says you. How are things?"

Her sister shrugged. Aspen studied her older sibling. No one ever guessed they were related, completely different in both looks and lifestyle. Sierra loved the beach for vacation and the vibe of small towns. Aspen craved concrete under her feet and the rushed chaos of everything New York had to offer. Her sister's appearance favored their mother, with pin-straight, caramel-colored hair, hazel eyes, and curves that made men drool. Aspen got all their father's Italian genes. Her dark hair was wild and curly as if it lived in a separate state, her olive skin tanned easily, and her eyes were mud-brown. She'd also gotten the height in the family, and her legs reminded her of a coltish racehorse not fully bloomed into a thoroughbred. Basically, Aspen had always been a klutz rather than graceful. Her body was almost boyish, and when she was young, she used to drool over her sister's clothes, praying she'd wake up in the morning with breasts.

Yeah, that never happened.

The worst, though? She'd gotten her father's nose—a little too big for her face—which she hated, but she was too afraid to go under the knife for a nose job. At least her brows were nice. Full and curved and looked like they were microbladed. Who would've thought eyebrows would become such a hot new trend? She got more compliments on her brows than anything else—which was a bit sad—but Aspen was realistic. She wasn't ugly, just not drop-dead gorgeous like the heroines she wrote about in her books. But she'd made peace with her face and body over the years and didn't dwell on what she didn't have. Just used what she did to her advantage.

"Everything's good," her sister said. "I'm just in a rut."

Aspen propped her elbows on the table. "How so?"

"I miss being with someone. I'm almost thirty. I eventually want kids." She rolled her eyes. "I've tried, but there's no one new to date."

"Makes sense. You've gone through the pool of eligible men here. How about tourists?"

Sierra shook her head. "God, no. This is my home, and I don't want a long-distance relationship. Or a weekly affair. I've done those."

"You can always come back to the city with me. Plenty of men to choose from."

"No, thanks. I'm a country mouse, remember?"

"As a city mouse, I don't get it. Other than summer, there's nothing to do here."

Sierra wrinkled the cute, pert nose Aspen was jealous of. "Yet you plan to shack up with me for two months, looking for inspiration."

"That's different. I need to write a new book, but it has to be different. More like the first one."

"You can never duplicate a first-time success. The public won't let you."

Aspen glared. "They will if I do it right. I just need to shake things up, and that's where you come in. Starting tomorrow night. I want to go out to the most social club you have. Check out the town and the vibe this summer."

Sierra let out a long sigh. "In Corolla? Honestly, if you want action, you should've stayed in the city."

"I need different." She didn't say out loud what she knew. She needed something to pique her emotional state. Or some one . Anything to rev up her hormones or throw her into drama. A feeling she could translate onto the pages of a new book to thrill and excite the reader. She didn't want to tell Sierra that her career was at stake.

Especially since she had no idea what would propel her into bestselling territory. This stupid career made no sense. She was a better writer now, yet she couldn't wow her readers like that damn first book. Why were they so stubborn? Why did they always want basically the same thing, yet the publishers pushed her to write fresh and new?

Trying to make sense of it all made her head hurt.

Her sister studied her with a familiar laser gaze that told Aspen she was about to be analyzed. Even though they were only three years apart, Sierra had tried to assume a maternal role after they lost their parents. But Aspen refused to allow her sister the extra responsibility, pushing back on her advice to prove Aspen could run her whole life. They'd had some epic fights in the past, but as they grew older, Sierra eased off except for the occasional heart-to-heart. Guess this would be one of them.

"I'm worried about you. You're completely isolated in the city, alone with your imaginary characters. And even though I'm thrilled you came to visit; the only reason is to write another book. Are you ever going to take a break?"

Aspen smothered a deep sigh and tried to be patient. "I love my work. If I was the CEO of a billion-dollar company, would you question me the same?"

"Yes."

She grinned. "I guess you would. Though I bet you work just as much."

The slight glare told Aspen she was right. "It's different. I'm surrounded by the community here. I'm not locked up in my house for weeks without seeing anyone. Your deepest relationships are with your Uber Eats drivers."

"And look, we're still happily together."

Her sister shook her head with obvious frustration. "I'm worried you're hiding from life. I'm worried you were so heartbroken because of Ryan, you don't want to risk another relationship. I'm worried no one's looking out for you, and I'm too far away to help."

"That's a lot of worries."

"Aspen. I'm serious."

"Okay, I get it." She reached over to pat Sierra's arm. "I'm okay. I swear. I love my life and my writing, and I rarely think about Ryan anymore. But you are right about one thing. I need to get out and have some adventures. Particularly with an interesting man who can light up my summer. And to do that…I need you to go out with me."

Sierra rolled her eyes, making even that gesture look classic and Grace-Kelly elegant. "Fine. We'll go clubbing and look for hot men like we did in our early twenties. "

Aspen lifted her hand in enthusiasm. Sierra half-slapped her hand back grudgingly.

"Almost left me hanging, sis. I'm gonna unpack and take a nap." She flashed a grin and headed to the car. She had a good feeling about the next few weeks and how they'd shake out. She would find her muse, enthrall her agent, and get back on the must-read list with her readers.

She just knew it.

"This is our big night out?" Aspen hissed, wriggling in the wooden chair for a better position. "Beer and nachos?"

Sierra regarded her with a haughty gaze. "You can have wine and potato chips."

Aspen glared with frustration. The Beer Garden had a great outside vibe, but it wasn't exactly the crowd she was looking to mingle with. Hidden from the main road and tucked in a backyard, the bar and tables were spread out on a patch of green lawn. Everything was done in faded driftwood. Groups of people clustered about, waiting for tables to open. The heat pushed into her lungs and sweat prickled her skin. She'd never craved air-conditioning as much as she did now.

"It's really hot," she said, pulling at her cute, white lace top that had looked fresh and clean an hour ago. Her denim shorts were damp and clung to her ass in not a great way. She thought to wear her hair down to look sexy and inviting, but the curls had expanded to mega lengths, creating an Aqua Net eighties vibe. "Stop laughing at my hair. Why didn't you tell me we'd be outside and in Hadestown? Plus, you haven't introduced me to one person yet. How am I supposed to have new experiences when I'm not meeting anyone?"

Sierra didn't seem to care about her complaints. "You said you wanted a lively place with music. This place is packed with people I don't know. Locals like to stick to less touristy places during the summer, like the simple bars with good food. And I'm not laughing at your hair. I'm more concerned it's a deadly weapon."

"Very funny. When does the music start?"

"Ten. I'm usually in bed. Did you know you can grab half-priced drinks at five?"

Aspen snorted and sipped her beer. "No wonder you're not meeting new men! It's only nine. Come on, we need to push some boundaries. Grab us another round and let's mingle." She held out a twenty-dollar bill and pushed it into her sister's hand.

Sierra blinked. "You're not done with that drink."

"I want to be ready. Do they have an inside to this place?" She slapped at a mosquito. "I'm not really an outdoorsy person."

"Yeah. I know." Sierra shook her head but grabbed the bill and headed to the bar. Aspen took her time studying the crowd and surveying possibilities. Shadows darkened the area with the dying sun, but lights were strung around, offering a party atmosphere. The musicians were setting up, and a crowd was already forming. Good. Maybe she'd dance and bump into a sexy guy. A man with broad shoulders that filled a doorway, a jaw to cut glass, and thick, blond hair like Hemsworth. He'd look into her eyes with purpose, shivers would race down her spine, and she'd know he wanted her.

Maybe she'd even have sex.

One could dream.

She turned with a sigh, and her gaze caught on a guy standing by the bar. It was his towering height that first caught her attention—then stayed because of his ridiculous sexiness.

He was huge, easily six-foot-three, with well-developed muscles. But not overbuilt. Big hands were propped on the table, feet braced a few inches apart, looking like he was ready for battle. His dark hair was a bit long, slightly messy, and had some curl. Even from this distance, the strands hinted at a glossy sheen, which made her a little jealous. His features were classic: Roman nose, square jaw, slashed cheekbones, and, dear God, was that a cleft in his chin or her imagination? His brows were full and fierce. He wore ragged jeans and a simple T-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders. In a crowd of well-dressed, socially animated people, he stuck out immediately, like he didn't give a flying fig what anyone thought.

A petite blonde hung on his arm. Literally. She was pretty much gripping his biceps and staring up at him with such adoration that Aspen winced.

The worst part? The guy didn't seem interested. She appeared to be chattering away, looking desperate for his attention, and he nodded, a slight frown creasing his brow, his focus firmly on the TV mounted behind the bartender.

Talk about cringeworthy.

Sure, he was gorgeous, but no woman should put up with such behavior. Aspen frowned, wanting to walk over and talk some sense into the blonde. If he was ignoring her on a date, it didn't bode well for future ones or a relationship.

Sierra appeared, plunking her drink down. "What are you staring at?"

Aspen jerked her head. "Who. That guy over there. He's a lousy date."

Her sister squinted, then shook her head with a laugh. "Oh, that's just Brick."

She blinked. "Who?"

"Brick. He's a local. Runs a tour place. He's the heartbreaker of Corolla."

"You did not just tell me his name is Brick. From—"

" Cat on a Hot Tin Roof . Yep, I'm not kidding."

"God, I love that movie," she murmured, shivering at just the memory of a young Newman and his bad-boy ways. Even if he hadn't been as hot for Elizabeth Taylor as his friend.

Sierra frowned and sucked at her straw with a touch of violence. "Yeah, ‘cause Mom set us up for failure. Showing us all those ridiculous classic movies and making us believe men could be like that. I'll never forgive her."

Aspen took in her sister's bitterness with sympathy. Mom had loved movie night, introducing them to the revolving cycle of gorgeous, charming men and the women they fell for in true Hollywood style. Mom was a romantic who'd married Dad three months after they met and never fell out of love. They'd lived an idyllic life until their single-engine hopper plane crashed while headed to an island on vacation. In Aspen's mind, her parents had died the way they'd lived. Together, hopelessly in love, in their own tragic ending that was film-worthy. Devastating but fitting.

Sierra disagreed. She'd called them batshit crazy to take some half-assed plane with a pilot they paid under the table to save a few bucks.

Her sister's divorce had done a number on her, and it was easier to blame Mom. But Aspen had to stand up for her idol. "She loved the fairy tale. Dad was her lobster. Her one and only. She believed we could have that, too."

"Yeah, how's that working out for you?"

Aspen wrinkled her overlarge nose. "Not good, but we still have time to find the dream."

"There's no dream in marriage. Instead of crap like An Affair to Remember or Casablanca , we should've been shown Knocked Up . Those are the types of men out there. All we have waiting for us is porn, lies, and ugliness. "

Now, Aspen was getting depressed. Her sister really needed some therapy or a man to give her hope again. Where Aspen had grieved deeply after losing their parents, Sierra had turned to rage and action, throwing herself into the tasks necessary for survival after being orphaned. Thank God they'd both been of legal age and left with enough life insurance for security. But emotionally?

Aspen wondered if either of them would ever get over such a traumatic loss.

"She showed us The Way We Were ," Aspen pointed out. "That was tragic. No happily ever after. Just broken tears."

"That's what you'd get with Brick. I'd suggest a hard pass."

Her attention got pulled back to the man by the bar. The blonde gave him a pretty pout and pushed her generous breasts into his side. He spared her a glance, nodded again, and lifted his beer in obvious disinterest. "Why? He doesn't look the charming type."

Sierra grinned. "Oh, trust me, he is. The man has a reputation that precedes him. Best to stay away and keep your heart safe."

Aspen regarded her sister in fascination. "Are you messing with me? Because you sound ridiculous."

"Nope, it could be straight from one of your books. Every woman who's gotten involved with him has experienced heartbreak. And I don't mean a bruise or a few tears. I'm talking weeks of sobbing and gaining at least five pounds. The man should come with a warning."

"He sounds horrible," Aspen said, half-thrillingly.

They watched the couple in silence. The blonde was now sipping her wine and gazing at him with a look of helpless grief, as if she realized she wouldn't be able to break through his barrier.

"Do you know he smells like cookies and spice? It's like an aphrodisiac," Sierra said.

"Did you ever try to date him?"

Sierra paused. "Well…"

"You didn't!"

Her sister groaned. "It was winter, and I was lonely. He likes to frequent Sundogs so I saw him there, and we had a drink together. Let's just say he was very upfront about his noninterest. "

"Bastard. How could anyone reject you? You're a catch."

Sierra gave her a grateful pat on the shoulder. "Thanks. It was for the best. To be honest, I knew we weren't good for each other. I appreciate him in a physical capacity, but there was no real spark or connection."

"Good. I just don't get it. Sure, he's good-looking, but he's got a dud personality. How can any woman fall for him?"

"Don't know. But I also heard—never mind."

Aspen jabbed her finger in the air. "Oh, hell no. You'd better finish that sentence."

"I heard he's amazing in bed." Sierra lowered her voice. "Like, so good he makes you cry."

Horror washed over her. "From pain or pleasure?"

Her sister shrugged. "Maybe both. Who knows?"

Aspen wondered what it would take to make her cry during sex. Even with Ryan, she'd moaned a lot, but it was more the heart connection than the physical. She was so in love with him, her body followed her emotions. She'd never experienced wild, messy, nasty sex just for the sake of release.

Maybe she was missing out.

Perhaps if she experienced that type of freedom, she'd be able to write a great book.

The thought pinged in her brain as the band began playing to an energized crowd. Finally, Brick took pity on his date and paid the bartender. Aspen respected the blonde's ability to walk since her entire body was plastered to his in what was probably a last-ditch effort to get him to fall in line. He politely clasped her elbow and guided her through the crowd, but Aspen bet there'd be no crying in his bed tonight.

Brick looked like it was the end of the date.

Sierra shook her head. "Poor thing."

"Okay, I didn't come here to get depressed for my hurting sisters. Let's dance."

She grabbed Sierra and pulled her into the mass of moving, sweaty bodies, trying to focus on surrendering to the music. She chatted up some men, but nothing got further than some surface conversation and offers of a drink. By the end of the night, she dragged herself into bed and fell asleep, wondering if she'd ever be able to write an extraordinary book if she couldn't find anything extraordinary to write about.